my Artemis fanfic
by NuttyNuggets
Summary: it has violence


Smoke from the occasional braziers and torches pressed twisted and hazy patterns in the sultry night air. Still, there were more shadows than light in Calimport's maze of alleys in the industrial section of the city, along the docks. Travelers or citizens unwary enough to walk the streets at this hour, or too poor to own a home or rent a room were sometimes lulled into a sense of false security by walking in such light, not thinking that robbers, murderers, or other types of predators may take advantage of the fact that when one is in the light, they cannot see well into the shadows, though they themselves are easily visible to those taking cover in the dark. Fortunately, only a trio of homeless men were near the warehouse at the moment.  
Artemis Entreri paused and considered the bums. Basadoni told him he must leave no witnesses, though given the men's raucous behavior and slurred speech, they had been drinking heavily and wouldn't remember this night's events in the morning, if they even took notice of him as he picked the building's locks. There was only one door, though, a mere twenty feet in front of them, and skilled as he was, it would take the young man almost a quarter of a minute to get in, and he might be seen. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem to leave a few dead behind, particularly society's undesirables, but he was supposed to make the coming rendezvous seem like a deal gone bad between the newly established Rakers and their suppliers of mind altering substances. Their chosen profession hardly bothered Pasha Basadoni, especially when so many of his underlings indulged in such things, though Artemis wasn't one of them. Their mistake was in trafficking their drugs on the guild's turf without so much as asking permission, let alone paying the necessary fee. The Rakers, however, were deeply entrenched in the city and held influence everywhere, despite their recent appearance compared with the traditional Pasha-led guilds. They couldn't be dealt with directly as other nuisances had been. To get at them, they would simply have to hurt their relationships with their allies from outside Calimport. Entreri knew the honor Basadoni had placed on him in giving this mission, especially considering this was his first major job. He was barely 16 years old, but the keen old man missed little, and knew he was most suited to this delicate task.   
Entreri made his decision. The homeless were often prey, and their deaths would not be connected to what would occur in the warehouse. The slight man, blending almost perfectly into the shadows, climbed straight up the wall of the building the men leaned their backs upon, using mere crags in the uneven brickwork as handholds to elevate himself. He darted to a position above their heads, and drew his saber. He was momentarily distracted, however, as his action brought to mind a painfully embarrassing mistake he had made a few months before. Possessing only a few hundred coins, he had foolishly attempted to purchase the famed Charon's Claw. Cunning the young man was, but in some ways, he could still be naïve to the world, though he took great care in everything he did after that. He realized many men and women in the guild resented such a young boy rising so quickly through the ranks, and used his mistake as a reason to grumble over Basadoni's choice, though never to his face. They wouldn't dare! His hand clenched on the hilt at the thought, then he forced himself to be calm, remembering his code of discipline, mentally as well as physically. He shouldn't let this get to him, especially right now.  
Derek, not suspecting he had anything to worry about except sobriety, reached his hand to the side. When he didn't feel the smooth glass pressed onto his skin, he shook his hand impatiently, still not glancing at his fellows. "The bottle!" he demanded, but then lowered his hand and felt moist sand under his fingertips. Thinking the fools had spilled the cheap wine that took them a day's begging to acquire, he turned to curse them, and stopped, horrified. Their throats were expertly cut. They hadn't even gurgled as they died. The moistness of the sand was Brand's blood. Before he could scream, Artemis slid the saber through the back of his neck, angled upwards into his brain.   
After cleaning his blade on Derek's rags, he went to the door and began to pick the lock, only to find that no one had bothered to lock it. Artemis sneered in contempt, and thought that if this was any indication, his job wouldn't be nearly so hard as he first thought. Not that a lock would have stopped him, but it was very careless to not try to keep out the abundant thieves in Calimport, many of whom were not skilled enough to undo the more expertly made locks often used in the shops and warehouses of this district.   
He cracked the door open slowly, in case it creaked, and peered through to see the back of a Raker thug, seeming bored as he watched a pair of his fellows play a game of bones. The gamblers were facing Artemis' general direction, but were too absorbed in their sport to notice him. Closing the door behind him, he slid to the left and perched himself atop the tallest pile of crates in the building, about ten feet above the men's heads. He saw almost the entire warehouse from his vantage point, and found there were only five men. One, a middle aged man in worn leathers, was the leader if his bearing was any indication. He had an air of authority about him, and was more aware of his surroundings than the others. He walked across the room and eyed everything around him   
intently as he waited for the dealers to arrive. Had he not been on the other side of the boxed goods near the door as the assassin made his entrance, he might have seen Entreri. Another man, thin and not even carrying finely toned muscles on his frame as Artemis did, had to be a mage. He sported a black tunic and trousers with ridiculously elaborate silvery trim.  
Artemis waited patiently for half an hour before the dealers arrived. Three men inconspicuously disguised as peasants each carried a burlap sack that wafted a pungent aroma of various weeds and dried exotic flowers. Artemis smelled it even at this distance. "As agreed," the tallest man said, dumping his burden on the floor. "You have the payment?" The leader of the Rakers nodded, retrieving a black cloth from the money pouch around his waist. He unfolded the material and showed it to the drug trafficker. The man smiled widely, yellowed teeth showing. Artemis himself raised his eyebrows at the item. It was a dagger, and quite beautiful, though usually such weapons were for show and made poor weapons. The hilt was covered in various jewels, emerald and ruby most prominent. The gems sparkled even in the dimly lit room. "Salun Dafi will be most pleased," the dealer said, and he bade his men to open the bags. Two of them contained the highly prized Black Lotus, an incredibly potent drug grown by the Shou many thousands of miles from Calimport. Certainly even this intricate dagger didn't warrant such a price!   
The Rakers shouldered the bags and gathered their weapons and other items. Curious, Entreri noticed that the Rakers had weapons not of metal, but a variety of bone and obsidian blades, with wooden handles, though such a thing was quite uncommon and certainly the Rakers had the means to furnish their members with metal blades.  
When it became clear that this was to be the only exchange between the two factions this night, Artemis prepared for his assault. He waited for the two subordinate dealers to walk under him, and he dropped down the fifteen feet height and, knees bent to absorb the shock of his landing, stuck his saber into throat of the man at his right, then pivoting to stab the heart of the man at his left. Both fell to the ground. Thinking the attack was a betrayal on the part of the Rakers, the lead dealer snarled and turned to them, sword bared. "He's not one of ours!" the man who brought forth the dagger shouted, backing away as he looked, wide eyed at Entreri. The mage, apparently less taken aback at the trouble, immediately began casting. He was unfortunately behind the three other men remaining, and Entreri knew he would not reach him in time to interrupt his casting. He prepared to dodge whatever magic that would be thrown at him, knowing it wouldn't be a fireball or other such all-encompassing spell, since his fellows were too close to him. Artemis began to withdraw behind the crates for cover when he felt a wrenching pain in his shoulder. He was shocked to find his saber had shot up to stick to the ceiling. It had been wrenched from his grasp so hard he nearly dislocated his arm from it's socket. The drug dealer wasn't as fortunate. He was writhing on the floor, grasping his shoulder and screaming. Neither was the wizard. The idiot mage apparently hadn't considered that the thread on his tunic was metallic, and was now struggling to breathe as he hung by his neck, where the embroidery was most prominent.   
The closest Raker, a half-orc weilding a wooden-handled axe with an obsidian head (their odd choice of weapons certainly made sense now) took a mighty swing at Entreri. The man relied on brute strength to win his battles, while Entreri, already a promising fighter and close to becoming the best in Calimport, possessed finesse and speed. Still, to fight a brutish half-orc unarmed, even when the opponent himself was unarmed, wasn't exactly a fun idea. Artemis threw himself into a back roll under the swing and, knowing the axeman would advance on him as he did so, kicked up with both feet into his gut. He grunted, but to his credit, didn't back down, so Artemis deftly kicked his left leg towards him behind the back of the half-orc's knee while he kicked out with his other leg above the man's knee cap, causing him to go down on his knees. Artemis rose, kicking him full in the face and somersaulted over him to then do a leg sweep of the next Raker, felling him as well. The half-orc, swift to reenter the melee, chopped down at Entreri, only to miss the quick man again, but accidentally severing the drug dealer's leg at the hip. The dealer howled even louder at this.   
Ever quick to improvise, the assassin grabbed the foot of the limb and swung as hard as he could at the half-orc twice before the horrified man's wits were gathered enough to reciprocate. Blood sprayed on him profusely, interfering with the half-orc's vision, so he began to swing wildly, hoping to hit him. Artemis ducked under another Raker's swing, then darted behind the man to shove him in the orcish man's path. Three Rakers were left standing, the leader just getting done loading a crossbow, and another man hesitantly coming toward Entreri and the raging half-orc. Artemis caught the bolt with the dealer's limb and swung at the other man.   
Artemis heard a telltale 'clinck' and knew metal hit metal as the stuck items fell from the ceiling. The spell had ended, probably at the moment of the mage's death. Entreri surged forwards at the Raker nearest him, pressing the leg against his weapon and pushing him to the spot directly under the falling mage. The man was buried under the dead man and knocked unconscious. Entreri grabbed the nearest iron bar, used to pry open the crates, and quickly finished the half-orc, smashing his wind pipe with a few well-placed blows. The man went down, choking.   
Artemis glance at the leg in his other hand and casually tossed it to the side. Not really caring where the thing went, it nevertheless soared cleanly through one of the few windows in the building, its flight ending with a meaty *thud* and a shriek as the impromptu cudgel scared the Nine Hells into some beggar outside.  
Artemis immediately turned to the leader and last Raker left standing. He was now holding the curious dagger in addition to his serrated bone blade. They circled each other, and Artemis chose to be the first to strike. He thrust forward with the pointed end of the bar, then feinted and slashed towards the Raker's head, but the man slapped it up with his bone sword while thrusting toward Entreri's gut with the dagger. Entreri swung the crowbar down in a half-circle to intercept the dagger, barely keeping it from striking him. He had to duck as the Raker swung the sword at him again, then back up quickly as he again struck out with the dagger. The Raker growled in frustration. Entreri sent the bar chopping at the Raker's head, and he parried with both blades, crossed in an X with the bar between them. Artemis wondered why he didn't simply block with one blade, and try to strike with another, but when the man slipped the dagger down to his hand, shallowly pricking his skin with the jeweled dagger, he knew. Artemis felt a tremendous tug, though not physically. It was as if his very soul was being jerked from his body, and he grew weaker almost instantly, barely feeling the floor as he slumped to his knees. The Raker laughed at his horror as his life essence was transferred to him, but had the presence of mind to glean information from his captive. "Who sent you?" the Raker demanded, and lessened the transfer to allow Artemis the ability to answer. The assassin gasped wordlessly, pretending to be still too weak to answer. The Raker frowned, but decreased his use of the wicked dagger, not noticing Artemis' trembling thumb moving towards his. With all his remaining strength, the assassin wrenched the man's thumb back from his hand, a painful if not a very debilitating move. It was enough. The Raker yelled in pain, and the dagger slipped from his grasp, and into Entreri's other hand. The Raker, no longer asking questions, swung his sword at his head. Unable to block with the dagger in time in his weakened state, all he could do was use his right arm. The blade sunk into it, nearly completely severing the bone, but Artemis was still able to slip the dagger under the Raker's leather jerkin and into   
the yielding flesh underneath. The perverse warmth as the Raker's life passed to him was in a way as wonderful as being at the receiving end was horrible, though it could have been that it was combined with his victory. When the man was dead, his arm, though useless for now, merely throbbed with a dull ache, as if his wound had been mending for weeks. The unconcious man under the mage's corpse was next to fall to the blade. He glanced at the one-legged dealer and saw that he was still alive, though just barely. He used the dagger on him as well. Entreri felt like a kid with a new toy, but quickly sublimated that thought. He didn't like to remind himself of the problem of his young age.  
The only task left was to slightly rearrange the bodies to make it look as if they had been fighting each other. It took him a while, since he could only use his left arm. He glanced at the shattered window, and now wished he hadn't thrown the limb like that, though it was unintentional. It would do, however. Entreri considered the dagger then, and wondered if he should leave it as well, since it was part of the exchange. But if he took the dagger, it would implicate that the Rakers had initiated the attack and took the item back. Entreri smiled. He tucked the dagger into his belt and grabbed the three bags, intending to carry them to the nearby docks, add a few rocks, and throw them into the water. While he was at it, he would keep an eye out for witnesses. His arm still ached damnably.  



End file.
